


Coming home...

by Eule



Series: Of friendship, trust and failures  - Modern AU [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Miserable Aramis, Protective Athos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 05:14:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eule/pseuds/Eule
Summary: Some nights have a good start, a middle to forget and an unexpected ending.





	Coming home...

**Author's Note:**

> Heard Ed Sheerans 'Bibia be ye ye" a few days ago and this one is inspired by the song.

He was so damn tired, he could cry. This night was one of the worst he had ever had and the only thing, he wants to do right now was crawling into his bed and sleep. Maybe tomorrow he will see that everything was a bad dream. But his key won’t fit into the lock and maybe he should lay down next to the great oak tree and sleep underneath the big green crown. And maybe the slowly falling rain could wash away some of the nights shame.

Athos wasn’t a heavy sleeper and since the whole ordeal with his ex-wife killing his little brother it has not turned for the better. So when he woke with a start, heart racing, his first thought was: ‘just another nightmare’. But he can’t remember one and he doesn’t feel like having dreamed of betrayal and death.  
Then he heard something. There was a scratching sound. He listened intently and there it was again. It was definitely at his front door, but then there was silence again. He sat upright in his bed, heart racing again, waiting for another noise and there it was. He snorts and withstands the urge to grab the weapon hidden in his bedside table. If this was an attempt to break into his house, it was a very bad one. He stood up and walked barefoot in the direction of the front door, but instead of opening it, he turns inside the guest toilet. Even if the person in front of the door wasn’t the best burglar, he could always have a knife or something like that. He has no interest in being stabbed or shot, because he scared the man by opening the door.

The guest toilet has a small window, it was a little bit higher so no one could peek inside or could see him looking outside, while standing on the toilet lid.  
To his great surprise it wasn’t the clumsiest burglar of the century in front of his door, but a desperate looking Aramis. It looks like he was trying to open the door with a key. But the key won’t fit, probably because he has no key to his house. Athos was a private man and the few times Aramis and Porthos where inside his house are countable at one hand. Mostly to bring him home after a night at the Wren or after a trip to the ER when he wasn’t able to drive himself. But that are things that happened after work, not in their free time. When they spend some time together, it was at the Wren or in Porthos or Aramis flat.  
He sights and climbs down the toilet lid.  
Maybe Aramis will go on his own when he realizes that he is at the wrong door. But the soft fall of the rain and the slumped shoulders of the man outside his house let him turn and unlock the front door. 

Aramis leans his head against the door. Maybe he should really go to the great oak tree and sleep there. His key won’t fit inside the lock and his drunken brain can’t figure out why.  
So it was kind of unexpected, when the door opens mysteriously on its own and he tumbles face first into some soft and good smelling body. He was only a heartbeat away from squeaking and blinked owlishly in Athos face.  
“What are you doing in my flat?” he asked. Or he tried to, his words had the typical alcoholic slur, but Athos seems to understand and quirks an eyebrow. 

“The better question is, why you are scratching with the key to your flat at my front door, at 4.30 on a Saturday morning. “ Aramis gaped and took a look, then realization hit. He turned to Athos, eyes huge. He doesn’t know him that long, but Athos doesn’t like visitors, especially not in the middle of the night. Definitely drunk, soaked through the bones and have tried to break into his house. 

“I … I … don’t know. Sorry! I … don’t want to wake you. I will call a cab and…” “You won’t. You will catch your death before the taxi arrives and I will not have another dead body on my doorstep.” Athos mutters and dragged a stunned Aramis inside. He had looked away once and had lost the people dearest to him, this won’t happen again. Even if the two idiots do not know that he thinks of them as friends. God knows they tried it every day, coaxing him and being absolutely stupid to make him smile. One day he will, but right now he can’t. Hopefully they will stay that long and won’t give up on him.

Aramis registered Athos words, but won’t dare to ask who has died inside Athos house. But maybe it was the explanation for his suffering and the sadness in his eyes.

He pushed Aramis inside the bathroom and rummages for a clean towel. “Get yourself into the shower; I will try to find some dry clothes for you. What the hell were you doing outside? Apart from getting wet and catching a cold?” 

Aramis blinked and fights against the tears. He will not cry in front of Athos. “I met a girl and on the way to her home I threw up in the cab. The driver kicked me out. And, I don’t know. Seems it was nearer to your house than to my apartment. Can’t remember coming here, thought I was going home. I can leave right now! You don’t have to trouble yourself with me!” Aramis was rambling, but he can’t do something against it. He was embarrassed, he had thrown up in a cab, in front of a girl he had kissed a few moments before. And then he walked to the wrong house!  
But before he could turn around and leave, there was a warm hand at his neck and he stares panicked in Athos calm green eyes.

“You will stay here tonight. Go under the shower and use as much hot water as you need. Then you will climb into some dry and warm clothes and come to the living room. I make tea and after that you will go into the guest room and sleep. It looks like you need it. Do you need something else?”  
Aramis shakes his head and tries to suppress all the emotions swirling inside him. He will not cry in front of Athos, but it was going to be more difficult with every passing second. And it looks like he understands and leaves him alone, after he had given him a soft pad to the shoulder.  
“Take all the time you need!” He calls and closed the door.

Aramis stood in the middle of the bathroom and breathed deeply through his nose. In and out, again and again. Then he undresses and climbs into the shower. The water was hot and if it mingles with some tears at the way down his face, nobody was there to judge him. 

When he comes out of the shower, he saw some neatly folded clothes on the window sill above the radiator, they were warm and clean. And they were a little bit short at the arms and legs, but there was nobody here to see that.

As he emerged from the bathroom he saw Athos sitting on the couch, hair mussed from sleep, a small impression from his pillow on the right cheek and with a book in his hand, he seems relaxed. This was a person he had never seen before, it wasn’t the perfect and controlled Lieutenant of the Garrison, the second in command after Treville. It was only Athos, who was caring for a friend after a miserable night. On the small table in front of the couch was a pot of tea and some buttered toast.  
He looks up, when he hears Aramis entering the living room, a concerned expression in his eyes. “Feeling better?” Aramis nods and follows Athos invitation to sit down next to him. And then he sat there, next to Athos, who would never urge him to speak, but would listen the moment he wants to talk. He had a warm cup of tea between his hands and a soft blanket around his shoulders. And somehow the whole night doesn’t seem so bad after all. 

Aramis eyelids were dropping and Athos saves the mug before the younger man spills the hot tea all over himself. Then he gently pushed him down, so he could sleep more comfortable. 

The sunrise finds Aramis fast asleep on the couch, one hand as a cushion under his head and curled up in a little ball. The other hand was hidden under Athos thigh. Athos himself was reading his book, drinking tea and pulling up the blanket around Aramis shoulders when it slipped, so he couldn’t get cold again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm struggling with the grammar... hope it is understandable, if it isn't please say something!


End file.
